


Every February 14th

by VampAmber



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Castiel, Castiel in Glasses, Complete, Dean Has Self-Worth Issues, First Kiss, First Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Homophobic John Winchester, I'm Bad At Tagging, Insecure Dean, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Mild Smut, No seriously I am so freaking bad at tagging, Protective Dean Winchester, Reunions, Teacher Castiel, Top Dean, Valentine's Day, bottom!Castiel, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-09 23:27:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10424187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampAmber/pseuds/VampAmber
Summary: What if you met that right person, the one who feels like home, when you were 16?Dean Winchester moved around a lot. His dad would make him and Sammy pack up and leave every new place after only a few months, so he didn't see any point in trying to make friends. Until he met Castiel Novak. And suddenly everything seemed perfect.What if you lost that person?After finally working up the courage to ask Cas out, Dean's dad unintentionally chose then to drag him and Sammy out of their hotel room in the middle of the night, making Dean have to skip out on their date. He didn't even get the chance to call and explain why he didn't show. There was no way the guy didn't hate Dean for standing him up like that.But what if you somehow managed to find them again?Ten years later, and Dean still felt like a jerk for what he did to Cas, even if it hadn't been his fault. Every Valentine's Day, he'd feel the weight of his actions and hate himself for it. But then, into the bar where Dean was drinking away his sorrows, walked a familiar guy in a trench coat and dark messy hair, with the bluest eyes that ever existed.And what if that was all it took?





	1. It All Started

**Author's Note:**

> I split this up into three chapters in hopes that it helped the flow a little. I liked it better than having all three sections in one long-ish one shot. Hopefully I had the right idea. XD
> 
> And as per usual, no betas were harmed (or used) in the proofreading of this fic. Point out any mistakes you see, because sadly I'm just human, and miss stuff from time to time.

It had all started with a stupid bouquet of roses. Big, garish looking red ones. Not exactly the best of quality (or even an appealing color), but hey, he was 16 and on a very limited budget here, and they’d been really cheap. Half of them were already starting to wilt, so that probably explained the discount. But that didn't matter. Dean had bought them because it was Valentine's Day, and from what he’d learned from movies that he didn't admit to watching, giving roses to the person you had a crush on was totally the way to go today. So, stupid half-wilted flowers in hand, he approached the locker of the person they were intended for.

Dean and his family moved around a lot, because of the jobs that his dad did. It was only Dean, his dad, and his little brother Sammy, so the moving itself part was usually pretty easy. They all made sure to own as few things as possible, specifically for this reason. It was really just the constantly changing schools part that killed Dean. They’d been doing it for almost a decade now, and in the beginning, it had seemed like every time Dean finally started to settle in and start making friends, Dad lost his job or found a better one, and up they went. Around the sixth time it happened in less than two years, Dean had pretty much given up on trying, because by the time anybody started to get close, he’d hafta up and move once again.

Dean didn't even know what his dad did, though he was slowly starting to suspect that it wasn't completely legal. As soon as Dean hit 18, his plan was to take Sammy somewhere away from their dad, and then try his hardest to keep him away. He’d even been reading up on how custody would go in a case like that, though he was fairly certain Dad wouldn't object. He treated them more like burdens than actual children.

But at this latest school, something had been different. At least for Dean, it had felt different. Same ugly walls and boring classes and tiny lockers as every other high school he’d been to so far. But this time… Maybe it wasn’t so much some _thing_ as some _one_. And that someone had a name: Castiel Novak. Dean had tried his hardest to not get close to anybody, to not give any shits whatsoever about any of the people surrounding him, but somehow Novak had wormed his way in.

It had turned out they had almost the same schedule, so the kid had offered to share his textbooks until the teachers got copies for Dean. He’d let him sit next to him in all the classes they shared, let him copy his notes so that he wouldn't be too far behind. Hell, he’d even saved Dean a seat at his lunch table. From the very first day at this school, Dean hadn’t been alone.

It had gotten to the point where Dean was over at Cas’ house almost every single day after school, working on their homework or studying for upcoming tests, or sometimes just hanging out doing nothing in particular. The guy was even cool with Sammy being there with them, since Dean was basically his babysitter every second they weren't in school.

The more they laughed and joked, the closer they got. It was around the middle of January that Dean started realizing what those butterflies in his stomach meant whenever he looked into Cas’ bottomless blue eyes that only looked bigger behind those thick ugly frames he was stuck wearing, or when they touched for a little too long, or when he gave Dean that shy little smile. He was crushing on the guy, hard.

Dean knew for at least two years now that he liked boys as well as girls. He also knew, even before then, that his dad was homophobic to the core. Him and Sammy had heard more than their fair share of rants over the years from their father, complaining about 'those gays’. It was one of his favorite topics to rant about whenever he got drunk, which was more and more often as the years went on. So Dean tried his hardest to push those butterflies away, but that only seemed to make them fly even more. Whenever Cas was concentrating really hard on a homework problem and bit his lip, butterflies. Whenever Cas tilted his head to the side because he was confused, butterflies. Whenever Cas' glasses started to slip down his nose and he automatically pushed them back up again, butterflies. Whenever Dean got Cas to laugh so hard that his smile showed his gums afterwards, so many freaking butterflies.

When February started up, Dean knew that he’d most likely be stuck moving again soon, and he finally decided the day before Valentine's Day that he’d rather try and see whether Cas felt the same way than risk being stuck moving and never knowing. So there he was, almost midnight on February 13th, standing in line at the convenience store that was two blocks from the place they were staying, buying the cheapest (and unfortunately ugliest) bouquet of roses they had left. He’d had to count out forty seven cents in pennies alone, but he hoped that it would end up being worth it. He hoped Cas would like them (and him).

And now here he was, standing in front of Cas’ locker, waiting for the other boy to arrive. Dean thanked whatever god that was listening that Cas always got to his locker early, because right now there were very few people around to give Dean odd looks. One of the petals drifted to the floor unnoticed as Dean perked up, finally seeing that mop of messy dark hair heading his way over the heads of the other students. He did a quick breath check into his hand, then tried to not show his abject fear as Cas approached him.

Cas smiled when he saw Dean waiting for him, but then tilted his head to the side in confusion. Dean practically melted on the spot. “Are those for a girl?” Cas asked, pointing to the flowers as if there was anything else he could mean.

“No, they’re… uhh…” Dean’s brain suddenly shut down and his mouth refused to work. Shit, he couldn't do it after all.

“Then who are they for?” Cas asked, getting more confused by the second.

“For uh…” Dean said, trying again while staring at his feet. “You,” he finally managed to get out, so softly he was afraid that Cas didn't hear. He shoved the flowers at Cas and started to walk away, face red with embarrassment.

“Dean, wait,” Cas said, stopping the embarrassed teenager in his tracks. Dean turned around, fear evident on his face. “They're beautiful, thank you.”

Dean just blushed harder. Then, before he could stop himself, he blurted out “Would you go out with me?”

There was a pause, and it almost killed Dean. But then, softly, Cas responded “I’d love to, Dean.”

And that was enough. That was more than enough. Dean let out a holler, newly formed audience of his peers be damned, and launched himself at Cas, giving him the biggest kiss he could. It was his first kiss, so if it was poorly executed Dean would have to apologize later, but right now he couldn't care less because Cas said yes!

Cas was startled at first, but then he started kissing Dean back. Dean could hear some of the kids around him making gagging noises, but mostly it was just cheering. Sadly, the teachers came out to break up the disturbance before the kiss got to be too fun, but when they pulled apart, they gave each other the goofiest grins imaginable.

They got reprimanded in three of their classes for not paying attention (it wasn’t Dean’s fault if Cas’ hand felt so nice in his that math wasn't nearly as exciting), and during lunch they snuck away to finish the kiss properly. Hiding two throbbing erections was about as difficult as Dean figured it would be, but thankfully it was the cranky old history teacher that had caught them doing what she thought was just kissing, and if that scary old broad wasn't enough to kill a boner in seconds, nothing was.

After school let out, they went to go pick up Sam from the building that housed the lower grades. Dean almost died of embarrassment when Sammy asked immediately upon seeing them holding hands, “Are you two boyfriends now?” Cas just laughed and nodded while he held Dean’s hand tighter, trying to keep him from escaping like he so wanted to. “Took you long enough,” Sammy added. They could bury Dean right here, save the trouble of dragging his dead body elsewhere. Cas just laughed more.

While Sammy did his homework on the floor, Dean and Cas sat cuddled on the couch planning their first date. Tomorrow was Saturday, and they decided that would be perfect. There was a diner a few blocks from the school that they’d gone to once that had the best burgers, and they both decided to meet there at seven.

When it was finally time for him and Sammy to go home, his little brother actually had to physically drag him away from kissing Cas some more. Dean grumbled under his breath the entire walk home, and Sammy just teased him further. They both knew enough to shut up once they reached their place, though, because neither of them wanted Dean to be yelled at for asking a boy out on a date.

Even though it was almost eleven by the time they got back, their dad wasn't in the long-term hotel room they'd been staying in. Not sure what that meant, and not really caring much at this point, Dean and Sammy got ready for bed. By the time they were asleep, he still wasn't back.

It was still dark out when the door slammed open, waking them both. “Kids, grab your stuff, we gotta get out of here ten minutes ago,” John Winchester shouted at them. “Hurry!” He started cramming stuff randomly into his duffle bag.

Confused, Sammy started to shove stuff into his own, but Dean just looked at his dad, trying to figure out what was going on. “Why? We weren't supposed to leave for at least a few more weeks.”

“Don't ask any damn questions, just pack,” John said, throwing Dean’s empty duffle bag at his face. He sighed and started packing, barely awake. The clock next to his bed said it was still a few minutes to five. When he tried to pack his school stuff, John smacked the book out of his hand. “Just leave it. You don't need it.” He then grabbed both duffles and started to shove the two boys towards the car, still dressed in their pajamas.

They'd been on the road for over an hour when he remembered that the only place he’d written Cas’ number down was on the inside of his biology notebook. Which they’d left back at the hotel room. He wasn't much of a praying man, but Dean still prayed that Cas wouldn't feel too heartbroken that Dean wouldn't be at the diner that night. Dean’s dad wouldn't even stop to let Dean make a phone call to the diner itself, to maybe let Cas know he wasn't gonna show.

A few weeks later, Dean finally managed to find a number for the Novak residence, but by then, he was too ashamed to dial.


	2. Ten Years Later

**~Ten Years Later~**

Dean sighed as he took another swig from his bottle of beer. It didn't matter that he'd only been sixteen at the time, every year on Valentine's Day he still felt a little depressed at having lost out on Cas. Sam had teased him about it earlier, and that was the reason why Dean was drinking alone at a bar tonight.

His little brother was graduating from Stanford with a degree in pre-law at the end of the school year, and then it was on to law school. Dean was proud as hell, but that didn't really stop the loneliness eating him up inside. Every year that Sam was in college, his classes took up more and more time, and thus left less and less time to hang out with his older brother. While Dean did have a drinking buddy or two at the garage he worked at, none of those had ever turned into friendships. Dean, as far as he was concerned, had never gotten over the years of constantly changing schools, and had never really learned to open up around people so he could make friends. “Thanks again, Dad,” he mumbled under his breath before taking another drink.

When he’d turned 18, Dean had sued for, and won, custody of his little brother. Things had been tough as hell those first few months, even after Dean dropped out of school to get a few jobs so he could keep a roof over their heads. As much as his pride hated to admit it, he had failed, hard, and would've lost Sammy if it hadn’t been for his boss at one of his multiple jobs, Bobby Singer. When he’d found out about Dean’s situation, he’d threatened to fire Dean for being an 'idjit’ if he didn't move into his spare rooms and ‘accept some damn help already’. The guy had felt more like a father than his own had, and that was just from working with him. It had taken a lot of convincing, but finally Dean had caved, but only for Sammy's sake.

A few months after they moved in at Bobby's, they found out their dad was in prison, most likely for a very long time judging by the mile long list of crimes he’d been charged for. Dean had been right, but that didn't make him feel any better. Though at least the earliest he’d ever have to deal with his dad again was in about twenty five years.

Sammy had thrived, not having to change schools constantly or having to study while his stomach was beyond empty. He even managed to earn himself a full ride at Stanford, of which Dean was extra happy because he doubted he could’ve afford much of anything better than a shitty community college for the kid otherwise. Dean had even moved out to California with him, so that they could still be close.

Every so often, Dean would feel the urge to look up Cas, see how he was doing, maybe even see if they could try again now that John Winchester and his crime fleeing was no longer an issue. But every time he felt that urge, he’d look at a calendar and realize just how much time had passed, and he’d think to himself that even if Cas did remember him, it was probably as that ass hole in tenth grade who asked him out then stood him up. He never went past the thinking stage of that plan.

Dean ordered another beer when he emptied the first, then slumped down into his shoulders as he waited. Some guy walked up next to him to order his own stuff, but since he was slumped over, all Dean could see was the bottom of a tan trench coat and black dress pants and shoes. But when they guy spoke to the bartender to order his beer (the same kind Dean was drinking), Dean’s eyes grew wide. That voice… no… couldn't be…

Dean looked up, and all he could see was messy dark hair, and a pair of frame-less glasses that looked so much better than those huge plastic things ever had. The guy even unconsciously pushed them back up his nose like he always had. Dean couldn't help but let out a gasp, and the guy turned to look at him, and Dean was lost in the blue again, so freaking lost.

Cas stared back, his eyes just as wide. Dean suddenly started worrying. Cas remembered him? Was he still angry? Was he going to start yelling at him? Was he going to run away and never come back, just when Dean had miraculously found him again?

“Dean,” he whispered.

“Cas,” Dean whispered back. If this was going to be the last good memory he had of the guy, he was gonna try and make it a good one.

“You…” Cas started to say, but trailed off.

Shit, here it goes. “Yeah,” Dean said sadly, hanging his head in shame. Then suddenly he was almost knocked out of his chair, and Cas was hugging him like he hadn't screwed the poor guy over royally a decade ago.

“You never showed up that night. I was so worried. And then you stopped coming to school, and I was so afraid something had happened to you, but I didn't know where to look,” Cas rushed out, burying his face into Dean’s shoulder. And there was no mistaking what that wetness was: Cas was crying.

Then it all hit at once. “You were worried?” He felt Cas nod. “You weren't pissed at me?”

Cas pulled away just long enough to look at Dean, tears still slowly trickling from his eyes. “Never, Dean.” Cas wiped at his left eye then readjusted his messed up glasses. “You’d told me how your dad dragged you from place to place, so I knew that had to be the reason you didn't show. But then you never called, and I had no way of getting a hold of you. I thought for sure you’d call, so I was afraid something bad had happened.” He tried readjusting his glasses again, then huffed a sigh of annoyance and took them off, trying his hardest to wipe off what he could on his shirt tail.

“Your number was written in my notebook from school, and Dad made me leave all that stuff behind. He woke us up at five in the morning and I didn't even think to grab the damn thing cuz I was still half asleep,” Dean said, letting out a self-deprecating laugh. “And by the time I found it in a phone book at a library, it was a few weeks later and I figured you probably hated me by then. I’m so sorry, Cas.”

Cas just stared. “Dean, I could never hate you.” He reached out and grabbed at Dean's hand, and the second their fingers intertwined, he remembered why being with Cas had felt like home. The bartender came up then and placed the two bottles of beer on the counter, giving them a look, but not saying anything as he left.

Dean looked down at their hands and smiled. “Pull up a seat. It's been ten years, I’m sure something interesting's happened since then.”

Cas let out a laugh, and when he stopped his smile was so big his gums showed. Dean found out that sight still made him melt.

They talked for hours, trying to catch up on everything they'd missed against their wills. Dean told him all about taking custody of Sammy, and their dad going to prison, and Bobby, and Stanford, and anything else he could think of. Cas told him how he’d gone off to college to get a degree in teaching, and still lived in his hometown, teaching third grade. He explained that he was only in California for his cousin's wedding, and would be heading back home in a few days. Dean tried so hard to smile after that, but it was a losing battle.

They didn't even realize what time it was when last call was announced. They'd moved over to a booth hours ago, and had barely noticed that other people still existed. Cas’ face fell after the bartender quit talking. “Dean, I…”

“You could… come back to my place if you wanted?” Dean asked hesitantly.

“Yes,” Cas responded, nodding his head. “I’d like that.”

They'd switched over to non-alcoholic beverages after the two ordered beers were empty, so Dean led Cas to his car. His bar of choice had only been a few minutes away from his apartment, and as he opened the door and let Cas go in first, Dean was glad that Sam only stayed here during the summer and on holidays because he did not feel like explaining any of this right now. Hell, he barely believed it himself.

“So, Dean…” Any other words Cas had been planning on saying were cut off as Dean was suddenly kissing him. Just like the first time, it only took a few seconds for Cas to start kissing back. Dean shoved him against the wall, trying to not be too rough about it but oh god he wanted this so bad.

“Is this… is it okay?” Dean asked as they pulled apart to breathe.

“Yes,” Cas sighed, and Dean pulled his face back into the kiss. They both stumbled their way to the couch, not breaking lip contact even once. When they reached their destination, Cas tripped over the carpet and landed heavily on the couch, Dean right on top of him. Dean pulled back to make sure Cas was okay, but he only started laughing, which just made Dean laugh as well.

They went about it slower after that, though not by much. Cas pushed Dean’s open flannel shirt off him, and urged Dean to lift his arms so he could remove the t-shirt as well. Cas’ trench coat had disappeared somewhere between the door and the couch, which only left a white button up shirt covering up his chest. In Dean’s haste to unbutton it, there might have been a few casualties, but he was willing to buy Cas ten new shirts if it meant not not having to stop and focus on being careful. Dean whispered into Cas’ ear “These look way better on you,” before removing the glasses and placing them on the coffee table. Cas’ blush only made Dean want this even more.

The entire time they were disrobing each other, their bottom halves were rutting against each other frantically. Kissing his way down Cas’ chest, Dean uttered the most coherent sentence his brain could make at the moment. “Lube. In bedroom. And condoms.”

“God yes,” Cas moaned, without actually making any move to follow through. Dean couldn’t really blame him, because he had to forcibly drag himself away.

At the bitch face Cas gave him when he stood up, Dean said “C’mon.” He held out his hand, but Cas still didn't look convinced. “I’ll make it worth it,” Dean said and winked. Cas was up and headed towards the bedroom in seconds.

They left a trail of shoes and pants and socks as they finally made it all those long feet to the bedroom. Plain white boxers had never been sexier, as far as Dean was concerned. Then suddenly, they were on the bed, a tangle of limbs and heavy breathing and kisses. Dean had imagined this exact scenario more times than he had cared to admit, but the reality was so much better. Their boxers were suddenly gone, and at this point he didn’t care who had done it, because the feel of skin against skin was electrifying.

Dean reached for the bottle he kept in the top drawer of his nightstand, and let out an awed breath at the sight before him. Cas had been amazing when they were both kids, but he’d been scrawny and awkward as well (not that Dean had really been that much better). But now? He was like some kind of god, an angel sent down to Earth to look unbelievably tempting, staring up at Dean, wide blue eyes blown with lust, defined chest rising and falling heavily. Dean was going to enjoy literally every second he had with this angel if it killed him.

As heated and frantic as the pace had been before, once Dean’s fingers were coated in the slowly warming liquid, his movements turned slow and sensual. He’d wanted this for so long, had always wished the guy or girl he’d been with at the moment had felt even a fraction of a percent as right as what he had with Cas. His brother thought him insane for harboring the crush for an entire decade, but right now Dean couldn’t think of a single reason why he’d been wrong. Moving on didn’t always have to mean forgetting, and sometimes precious things that were lost came back. As he worked Cas open slowly, gently, he cherished every noise that came from between those beautiful chapped lips. The sighs, the moans, the gasps, they were music to Dean’s ears in a way nothing else ever had been. And when Cas was finally open? So hot and tight and perfect, that Dean almost had to hold back the tears.

They kissed and caressed as Dean pushed in and out slowly, building up speed just as slowly. Cas beneath him was a fantasy come true, and Dean stopped himself from pinching his arm to see if he was dreaming at least half a dozen times. They orgasmed one after the other, and Dean fell next to Cas, exhausted and happier than he had ever been. Imagining having this every day… and remembering that Cas was leaving soon… it almost broke Dean’s heart, but for now, he was going to enjoy what he could. He left Cas’ embrace just long enough to turn off the lamp, and they both fell asleep, kissing each other into unconsciousness.

When Dean woke the next morning, it took him a few seconds to remember what happened and who the warm body was next to him. But as soon as he did, his heart started trying to beat its way out of his chest. It was Cas. It had all been real. His celebration was cut short as Cas groaned and shifted position, mumbling “Too early,” before grabbing the covers and pulling them up over his head.

This hadn’t been just another one night stand kind of thing, right? Dean started to worry, and just to check and see, he moved just enough to be able to kiss Cas on the cheek. Cas turned around and squinted at him blearily for a few seconds. “Dean,” he said, smiling so big it made Dean’s heart thump extra hard. He leaned in for a real kiss, and who was Dean to deny him?

When they pulled apart to breathe a few minutes later, Dean’s mouth spoke without permission. “I love you, Cas.” The second the words were out of his mouth, he froze. Shit! He scrambled out of the bed, suddenly in full on panic mode. Shit! He raced for the front room, barely hearing Cas stumble out of bed behind him.

“Wait! Dean!” Cas called out after him, which didn’t have the same effect as it did last time.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, it was stupid,” Dean turned around, afraid his traitorous mouth had just gone and ruined what was quite possibly the most beautiful thing he’d ever experienced.

“Dean,” Cas started, picking up his glasses from the table and putting them on even though they were both still completely naked, but Dean interrupted him.

“It’s been ten years, and it’s not like we actually had a relationship or anything. This is just crazy, obsessive bullshit, still having a thing for your first love from high school, or whatever you wanna call what we were, what we didn’t even freaking have a chance to be. But just… you always felt right, right from the damn beginning, and how the hell could I not fall in love with you? You were perfect, and I had to go and fuck it all up, and…”

This time Cas was the one who interrupted. “Dean,” he said sternly, in a voice that made Dean think he must be really great with his students, too.

“What?” Dean all but snapped back. He’d screwed everything up, he knew that already. Was Cas going to yell, or call him crazy, or just leave, or what?

“I love you, too,” Cas said softly, blush spreading across his face, and across a few other parts of his naked frame.

“But…” Dean didn’t even know where to begin on completing that sentence.

“When you disappeared, I tried to move on with my life. I mostly did, in fact. I had a few boyfriends over the years, but I never once connected with them the way I did you. We may not have had much time, but it was special. Special enough that I always wished I could find you again, maybe try for a second chance,” Cas smiled reassuringly. All the stress that Dean had been building up inside was gone, much like his boxers last night. Poof, disappeared, though probably not to the foot of the bed like the boxers…

“I thought the same, Cas,” Dean said, marveling at the fact that he hadn’t been the only one, he hadn’t been alone in thinking Cas was exactly what he needed, what he wanted most. “Valentine’s Day always made me feel depressed, even when everything else was going right in my life.”

“Me as well, Dean. I kept the flowers you gave me, pressed them in one of my books so I could keep them longer,” Cas smiled, shyly this time.

“Those hideous things? I bought ‘em for cheap at a freaking convenience store,” Dean laughed.

“To me, they were beautiful,” Cas said, and adult or not Dean couldn’t help but roll his eyes and smirk.

They met in the middle and kissed, innocently compared to last night, but almost better in its sincerity.

Dressed back in their magical boxers and both wearing one of Dean’s t-shirts (and a few thousand mental pictures now firmly in place in Dean’s memory because holy crap did Cas look hot in his old AC/DC shirt), Dean made what resembled a breakfast and they sat down together at the small kitchen table to eat. And Dean, being the type to ruin things for himself without his permission, asked the elephant in the room-sized question. “So, now what?”

Cas paused, half eaten piece of toast forgotten in his hand. “I… honestly don’t know,” he sighed. “I’ve been looking for you so long, and now…”

“And now we live a thousand miles away from each other,” Dean continued.

“I want to see where this could go, but I love my job, and I own my own house, and…”

“I’m not tied down here, you know?” Dean said as the brilliant idea hit him.

“You’re not?” Cas asked, confused head tilt and all.

“I only moved here to be close to Sammy while he was starting college. My lease is up for renewal next month, and Sam’s got a girlfriend he’s been spending most of his free time with anyway. Besides, it’s not like the internet and phones and occasional road trips don’t exist.” The more Dean talked about this new idea, the better he liked it.

“But what about your job? Your friends?”

“You can be a car mechanic pretty much anywhere these days, and I never did get any good at making friends. It’s pretty much been just me and Sam these past few years, on my side of things.”

“You’d be willing to move? Just for me?” Cas almost looked like he couldn’t believe it. But then again, they came from completely different backgrounds, and unlike Dean, packing up and moving for the smallest reasons wasn’t really something Cas had ever really dealt with, most likely.

“For a chance to try again? To maybe have something good, something that feels right, with you? Hell yeah, Cas,” Dean had pretty much already decided by now. But… “If that’s okay with you?”

“The same could be asked of you, Dean. But if you’re okay with it, I’d love it if you were close to me again,” Cas said, his eyes almost sparkling for real.

Dean got up and pulled the guy into a hug. “I do still owe you that date. That diner still there by the high school?” Dean said into Cas’ ear.

Cas couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes Dean. And their burgers are still amazing.”

“Guess we’ll just hafta meet there at seven, then,” Dean said, and pulled Cas into a kiss.


	3. Epilogue

**~Epilogue~**

Sam had actually been surprisingly okay with the plan, though Dean was pretty sure the teasing wasn’t going to stop for at least a few more decades. “Seriously though, Dean, you’ve looked miserable for at least two years now, even if it wasn’t your designated annual mope-over-lost-puppy-love day. If you being happy means chasing a guy you knew ten years ago halfway across the country, I’ll stand by you. And if all else fails, you’ll only be a few hours away from Bobby, and there’s no way he’d let you do anything too stupid.”

“Thanks,” Dean said, smacking the overgrown moose on the shoulder playfully, “bitch.”

“Jerk,” Sam said back, smiling. “And make sure to invite me to the wedding.”

“And just for that insult, you don’t get to be the flower girl any more,” Dean huffed, trying to hide his smile. Yeah, maybe they would get married some day?

On moving day, Sam piled all his stuff into a small cross-town moving van to take to his girlfriend’s apartment, and Cas was back to help Dean fill up his moving truck and attach his Baby to the car ramp on the back. Dean had managed to find a small apartment a few miles from the long-term hotel he’d been staying in when this whole thing started, and he’d even managed to find a garage that had been hiring. The fact that the guy running it knew Bobby from way back might’ve helped matters a bit, but Dean wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Dean and Cas finally had their date at the diner, even if it was a little over ten years later than expected. Dean ended up breaking his lease and moving in with Cas after about six months, and two years after that they had a small family-only wedding ceremony, with Sam as Dean’s best man (even though Dean had relented and told Sam he was still allowed to be the flower girl after all).

And every February 14th, Dean would give Cas the cheapest, ugliest, most pathetic bouquet of convenience store roses he could find.


End file.
